


To Sleep In Midwinter

by morningmikan



Series: the long seasons [3]
Category: JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment, 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hate Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Power Imbalance, Self-Hatred, not darkfic but it tapdances close
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningmikan/pseuds/morningmikan
Summary: Some histories are better forgotten, especially if you manage to live to come out the other side.
Relationships: Hamura Kyohei/Higashi Toru
Series: the long seasons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641178
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was attempted PWP that became a long monster that refused be just horny "Higashi gets railed" content. While readable without doing so, reading "Winters" will make more of the references make sense.
> 
> I have tried to tag all my Problematic Content, but if I miss something do let me know.
> 
> If you came just for the porn, I'm so sorry for my bullshit.

The first time it happens, Higashi is summoned to the family office in the dead of night.

There is no man at the door, and when he enters the office the blinds are drawn and only half the lights turned on. Hamura sits on the leather sofa with a glass of whiskey and cigarette balanced in one hand, a leg lazily crossed over the other. He’s in that white suit again, the same one he wore down the sewers last week - ice-white and spotless and nearly gleaming.

Something cold runs down Higashi’s spine and when Hamura’s eyes meet his - silver and handsome and predatory - causing the fear to pool in his stomach and send a tremor to his knees. He keeps his head down respectfully, and locks the door behind him - he knows he won’t leave soon, and it’s better if no one walked in.

“Smart boy,” Hamura rumbles. 

Higashi stands in front of Hamura, the low coffee table the only boundary between them, and bows low with his hands bracing his knees to keep from shaking.

The sound of a slow exhale, and a heady smoke that smelled of spices fills his vision - rich and unusual, the scent thick and coating his throat as he breathes it in. Imported, not the captain’s usual brand of Winston Caster Whites, something Southeast Asian. The obasan who runs the tobacco shop off Nakamichi will know where to find them, if Higashi is tasked to buy them.

Higashi sweats, fear crawling up into his chest and he tries to swallow it back down. He starts to review his list in his head to keep from thinking about how Hamura has said nothing and only watched him. He grips his knees tighter and recites like a prayer:

_Oyaji likes the classic Mevius even if he still calls them “Mild Sevens”, and lately enjoys cold sake, cheap or expensive. The captain gets a carton of Winstons every week, half of which gets given as little prizes to the youngest guys. He’ll drink any whiskey but the Yamazaki 18 he hoards and will only pour for oyaji. Kaito buys Seven Stars and won’t admit he likes the citrus-flavoured cigarettes the girls at Emerald Hills light for him. Yagami buys Seven Stars too, occasionally flips a box to Kaito and saves Higashi a trip, and the two of them will drink anything from daiginjo to gutter beer._

“Well, well - look at those little wheels spinning inside your head,” Hamura says, jolting Higashi out of his recitation. “Come here.”

Higashi forces his legs to move beside Hamura, head still bowed, hands folded politely in front of himself to keep them from shaking. He’s barely an arm’s length away and can smell Hamura’s cologne, the rich cigarette, the golden scent of expensive whiskey. Everything is too heavy, suffocating, and his frayed nerves vibrate under the weight enough that he starts to feel dizzy.

“Undress.”

Higashi snaps his head up and makes the mistake of meeting Hamura’s eyes, and something else starts to coil around the base of his spine. The smirk pulling on the captain's mouth and his hungry gaze raking up and down Higashi's body is familiar, and his stomach turns over as the air thickens with intent.

He closes his eyes to suck in a deep breath, his skin prickling from the sensation of Hamura’s eyes still boring into him. His hands quiver as he takes off his jacket and shirt, laying them both on the table before he removes his shoes and steps out of his slacks and underwear. The glasses come off too - it's the only kindness he can provide himself tonight. He keeps his eyes on the floor, staring at his bare feet on the old carpet, and shivers.

Hamura makes a thoughtful noise. “Come closer.”

Higashi steps in between Hamura’s opened legs, ears and face burning with humiliation. His hands twitch at his sides, fighting the impulse shrieking along his nerves that told him to run, to fight, to do _anything_ but stand naked in front of the man who very nearly killed him a week ago. His body does not understand consequences but his brain does, and he shuts his eyes to try and recite more lists to stop himself fleeing his own skin.

_Kaito’s collection route starts from Pink Bubble off East Taihei, takes a zig-zag route between Pink Street and Pink Alley, avoids the block of Saejima Family businesses further north, and ends at Emerald Hills Nakamichi behind Yagami’s office. He’ll leave the valise of money at Yagami’s office inside an empty binder, pay the detective an agreed 30,000 yen “holding fee” which gets cut down if Kaito brings lunch. The second half of the route starts at Kakitani-obasan’s tobacco shop, then north up Theatre Ave to the string of hostess clubs near the Hotel District, ending at Emerald Hills Shichifuku._

He flinches when he feels Hamura’s fingertips brush along his skin, bites off a whimper when a large hand gently strokes down his thigh and sends a shudder down his spine.

“You been hiding all this under those drab clothes, huh,” Hamura murmurs. “Brains and a body to match, guess it runs in the family.”

What?

Higashi opens his eyes and stares at Hamura, who’s leaned back against the sofa and casually stubs out his cigarette.

“I’m not as dumb as your expelled boyfriend. Anyone with half a brain can tell you and Yuna are related,” Hamura smirks. “She goes to the same night school Ta-bo did, right? Studying for the qualifying exam for the bar all on her own? Now those two as a couple, we’d all be in trouble.”

Hamura laughs into his drink as Higashi tries to quell the rising panic in his throat.

“H-how ...?”

“Same way I know you didn’t get _this_ from just butchering tuna for a few years,” Hamura says as he palms Higashi’s muscles, running his hand down past Higashi’s navel and lifting his hand away before he reached the hair between Higashi’s legs.

Higashi’s body, a poor ally and worse friend, lets a soft gasp escape his lips and sends a twitch to his dick that doesn’t escape Hamura’s notice.

“Been a little lonely, huh? Let’s fix that - kneel.”

Higashi sinks to his knees and the thing under his spine starts to warm and spread.

Hamura grins. “Now aren't you graceful? The brats at the clubs can learn a few things from you.”

The captain takes his chin and tilts his head up, Higashi desperately looking past Hamura’s gaze and staring at the painting on the wall behind his head - thick impasto strokes, the effect watery with his poor close vision, the colours drained in the dim lighting. He feels the back of Hamura’s fingers gently stroke his cheek and winces.

“You’ll hurt a man’s feelings if you keep acting like I’m gonna hit ya,” Hamura rumbles, rare humour in his voice. “Don't gotta do nothing when you do all the work for me.”

Hamura’s hand travels down the side of Higashi’s face, down his neck, and stops at the base of his throat. He could easily squeeze down, choke him, but instead he strokes his thumb on the delicate skin. Higashi’s breath hitches as he feels the heat on his face spread down his neck to his chest, his body’s slow betrayal of him continuing with the rising interest between his legs.

The pad of a thumb strokes over Higashi’s nipple and the high noise that Higashi makes comes out too quickly to stop. Hamura grins, does it a second time and draws out a gasp.

“Well, well. You aren't shy at all, are you?” Hamura whispers, and Higashi keeps his face turned away as he pants, shame burning through his body as quickly as the arousal.

He tries to not lean into the hand that cups the back of his neck, fingers stroking the hair at his nape just as Kaito did. He wants pain, a clear threat that was easy to understand, not caresses that made him shiver and sent electricity along his skin. Higashi rattles around his own skull as his body turns to Hamura like a blossom to the first hint of warmth, and he could scream from the frustration.

“Show me what you can do. You know what happens if you don't.”

He does. It’s the smell of burnt plastic, a loud hollow echo, the sound of running water.

Higashi slides his hands slowly over Hamura’s thighs, the cashmere fabric soft under his fingertips, the colour so unnaturally white that even Higashi’s own pale hands glow warm against it. He leans in, presses his nose to Hamura’s erection, smells that spiced cigarette smoke on his clothes and the heady scent of the man underneath.

He hears an unsteady exhale above him, the hand on his head sinking deep into his hair, and seizes the smallest, pettiest satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one unravelling.

The belt is already unbuckled, and Higashi tries not to think about how long Hamura planned this as he undoes the fly. His own dick pulses when he sees Hamura’s erection straining in his underwear, large and heavy, and he wishes the shame were stronger than the scent of Hamura’s sweat and precum damp against the white fabric. Instead, he rubs his palm over Hamura cock, stroking through the thin fabric and moving forward to press his mouth to it, tongue pushed against the damp spot and tasting salt and bitter.

“ _Hah_ ...” Hamura pants. “Did ya ever do this with Kaito?”

Higashi doesn’t answer, just frees Hamura’s cock and lets it knock against his cheek. He tentatively starts to stroke it, pulling the foreskin above and below the head in slow motions, drawing a grunt from Hamura and the hand weaving tighter into his hair. It pulls just once before letting go, almost petting him, and Higashi takes the cue to open his mouth and lick the underside of the cockhead. Hamura’s groan vibrates down his spine and straight into his dick, and Higashi moves forward to run his mouth down the long shaft, following the veins with his tongue down to the balls and laving them wet.

“Mm ... I knew it when I saw you,” Hamura murmurs. “That dumb gorilla visits all those sex clubs when the best whore in town’s been lighting his cigarettes the whole time.”

Higashi takes all of him in his mouth, tongue curling and flicking against the head, exploring the tip and the hole that oozed precum onto the flat of his tongue. Hamura’s hand slowly drags him forward, and Higashi’s throat fills with Hamura’s long cock as he swallows him down. His eyes water as he fights down the urge to gag, hollows his cheeks to suck as he pulls back and manages a moan from Hamura.

Hamura’s phone buzzes, and the captain snarls in frustration when he sees the display, whatever good humour he had disappearing completely.

“Be a good cocksleeve and don’t move,” he hisses, pushing Higashi’s head back down his shaft as he picks up the phone.

Higashi nearly chokes but he obeys, taking careful small breaths through his nose that touches against Hamura’s hair. He can’t hear the call at all, too focused on relaxing his throat and the taste of Hamura spread along the full length of his tongue. His mouth fills with saliva and he swallows before it dribbles out of his mouth onto the seat or back down his windpipe, and feels Hamura’s cock twitch in surprise at the back of his throat. A warning pull at his hair, and Higashi moans as he feels his dick respond and slowly leak onto the floor. He reaches down to grip himself, thinks to strangle himself flaccid, but instead he starts to stroke as he gets used to the hot weight inside his mouth and throat.

Hamura hangs up and throws the phone aside, fists the hand in Higashi’s hair and slams his head forward. Pretense gone, he thrusts his cock as fast as he can into the heat of Higashi’s mouth, the pace scraping the back of Higashi’s throat raw. Hamura comes with a snarl, emptying down Higashi’s throat, and Higashi swallows the cum, the shame, the smell of power.

Hamura slowly pulls him off, leaving Higashi gasping down air with saliva and cum dripping down his chin. He can feel those cold eyes appraising the erection bobbing against his leg, the small puddle on the floor, the tremble in his body as arousal still courses through his blood.

“Captain …”

He goes silent when Hamura grips his face, pushes his thumb between his lips and presses on his tongue. Higashi exhales and then licks at it, flicks his tongue around it, traces it back to the palm so his tongue sticks out of his mouth and he hears Hamura suck in a breath. Two fingers replace the thumb and he sucks on them wetly, the sinking feeling of knowing what was to come dulled by the promise of release.

“Get up here.”

Higashi crawls up into Hamura’s lap, knees on either side of the captain’s legs and his ass pressed against the still-wet cock that was stirring to life again. He slumps forward with a gasp when he feels the spit-slicked fingers stroke against his hole, hands twisting in Hamura’s black shirt as he fails to bite down the high whimper when the first finger breaches him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you nice and ready,” Hamura breathes, a hot tongue snaking out to lick the shell of his ear. “Even whores need a bit extra to really have fun.”

The first finger is down to the second knuckle and a second rubs the rim, and Higashi hears Hamura tear something with his teeth. Something cold and slick is pushed against his hole and then he cries out when the second finger pushes inside him. He tries to ignore his own voice, high and gasping as he's slowly scissored open, Hamura's fingers stretching and massaging and easing the burn away. Soon a third, and Higashi is moaning now, rocking against them and rubbing himself against Hamura’s shirt, the fear of reprisal drowned out by the shock of pleasure when Hamura finds that bundle of nerves inside him and presses down.

“ _Ah, captain - !”_

It’s hopeless, he’s hopeless, arms now around Hamura’s neck and his legs shaking, desperate to be filled by something bigger, something hotter. Hamura’s cologne and sweat fills his nose as he buries his face in his neck to stifle the noise he’s making, turning his head to try and drown out the wet sounds of fingers thrusting into him.

They slip out and Higashi barely has a moment to breathe when he feels the head of Hamura’s cock rub against his stretched hole, catching the rim and slipping away. Higashi groans, moving his hips to try and rub against the shaft, the head, _anything_ as it slides maddeningly along the cleft of his ass.

“ _Please ...!_ ”

“I love a slut with manners,” Hamura growls, lining up his dick and thrusting up.

It’s too thick, too much at once, and Higashi wails, his voice wavering as Hamura works himself in with deeper and deeper thrusts until Higashi is fully seated. He only has a moment to think, to feel Hamura’s hands gripping his ass and spreading him open, to float lightheaded from his spine being arched so far that his head is tipped back in the air. Hamura fills him, invades him, thick and hot and pushed up tight against the part of him that rips from his throat every high keen and animal cry.

Hamura pulls him up slightly, circles his hips so that Higashi moans and grinds down to meet him, then starts a relentless pace that slams his cockhead over Higashi’s prostate at each stroke, no space left for anything but the shortest little gasps and the wet claps of flesh hitting flesh that ring out too loud in the empty office.

“God you’re tight, fuckin’ swallowing me up,” Hamura grunts as he scrapes his teeth against Higashi’s shoulder. 

“ _AH - captain - ah - ah - !“_

Hamura leaves a sucking bite, nearly drawing blood and groaning as Higashi clenches around him. His hips lose rhythm for only a moment before he starts again even rougher, drawing out his cock almost completely to let his head tug against the swollen rim before slamming Higashi down again. Higashi drowns under the shockwaves of vicious pleasure, comes with a shout, his untouched cock sending ropes of cum against Hamura’s black dress shirt.

Hamura does not stop, still pounds into him, each ripple of pleasure now twinned with burning pain. Higashi shakes, face wet with tears of overstimulation, mouth open to only manage dry silent cries as the hard heat inside him still thrusts up to split him apart and unmake him.

“ _Please - ah - ahn - it’s too - too much - unh!”_

Higashi feels his head tipped to one side and feels Hamura’s lips against his exposed throat.

“You’re _my_ woman now, and you’ll take what I give you.”

Hamura bites into the skin, a wolf sinking his teeth into a deer’s neck, and Higashi comes again with a scream.

Limp and empty, Higashi’s body slumps against Hamura as the captain grunts his own release, cock twitching inside Higashi as hot cum fills him and leaks out. The hands on his ass release him as Hamura's cock slips out and Higashi slides to the floor, some last instinct trying to move him away, but his weak legs just fold under him and his head lies against Hamura’s knee.

“Clean up the mess you made.”

Higashi looks up, and Hamura smiles like a knife.

He leans forward and licks the cum and lube off Hamura’s soft dick, uses the flat of his tongue to make the job go quicker. When Hamura makes a noise of satisfaction, Higashi moves himself higher, laps at the cum-stained fabric of his shirt, sucks the fabric clean so it looks only wet and not smeared with his humiliation.

“Good,” Hamura says as he tucks himself back in, buckles his belt and buttons his jacket over his damp shirt. “Lock up on your way out.”

He moves aside on the floor as Hamura stands to leave, smoothing his hair and pulling out his cigarettes - besides the flush on his skin, he looks immaculate. He gives Higashi an unreadable look with those silver eyes before he shuts the door behind him.

Higashi sits dizzily up on his knees, feels the soreness of his throat and his ass, the lingering warm rivulets of cum leaking from his hole. He hunches forward under the weight of the evening - the past _month_ \- pushing down his shoulders. His forehead touches the floor beside his own drying precum in some debased apology, and Higashi can’t tell who it could possibly be for.

But he has to get up. He has a responsibility still left to do.

Higashi picks up the emptied whiskey glass and ashtray, and starts to tidy.

***

The second time is in a love hotel, and Hamura is in a black mood.

His phone constantly buzzes with text messages, checks them even as he’s got Higashi on his knees on the floor as Hamura sits on the bed, Higashi’s lips sliding up and down his cock. The anger simmers so deep that he doesn’t even ask Higashi to stay still and warm his cock as he writes his replies, just sneers and lets Higashi continue to suck at him and stroke his balls as a cold line of fear seeps down his spine. Higashi flicks his tongue against the head, quick and tantalising, waits for the surprised exhale before he opens his throat and takes Hamura deeper, making the wet swallows as loud as he can.

Higashi starts to touch himself, his hand slicked with lube, and takes long strokes that make his arousal obvious to Hamura. The twin wet sounds of his mouth sucking Hamura’s cock and his hand jerking his own fills the room, and he hopes it’s enough to pull the captain into a less murderous mood.

To his surprise, Hamura places a hand on his forehead and stops him. He’s pushed off and blinks as Hamura takes himself in hand, stroking as he stares at Higashi’s sweaty face.

“Keep touching yourself,” Hamura hisses. “Show me how the best little whore in Kamurocho gets herself off.”

Higashi shuts his eyes, lets the familiar humiliation sear through his body, then lets his mind float away as his hand goes faster and the waves of pleasure course up his body and fill the hollows left by his absent dignity. He shoves two fingers from his spare hand into his mouth, covers them in spit and lets Hamura see his tongue roll across them, then slides them down to stroke and press at his hole. He gasps and moans as they both slide in, the hand along his dick stroking faster, and his fingers are too slim, not thick like Kaito’s, it’s not satisfying and not _enough_ -

He hears Hamura come with a growl, feels hot cum splatter across his face and tastes some of it in his mouth. Higashi’s tongue flicks out to lick his lips, opens his eyes to meet Hamura’s as he does so, and feels more cum land along his neck and collarbone. Something reckless makes him keep staring at Hamura as he curls his fingers inside himself to try and reach his prostate, barely catching the end of it and coming into his hand with his mouth open and Hamura’s cum visible on his tongue.

Hamura laughs, and Higashi feels both pleased and sick.

“A necklace suits you,” Hamura says, dragging his finger along the cum dripping down Higashi’s neck. “I should get you one.”

He sticks the finger in Higashi’s mouth, and he obediently licks it clean.

***

The fifth time, in that same love hotel, after Hamura has come once in his ass and once across his back, he passes Higashi a thin box as he smokes in bed.

It’s a gold chain, a real one with a karat marking and not a brass replica.

“Put it on, I wanna see how it looks on you.”

Higashi unlatches it and moves to hook it around his neck, struggling to locate the closure when he feels Hamura’s hands come up and take it from him. He hears the tiny click and Hamura drapes the chain forward.

“Hm, even a man’s chain on you looks cute,” Hamura says with a grin.

Higashi gives a weak smile and bows his head in thanks, imagining the chain to become hot molten gold that can scorch through his flesh and drop through his corpse to set the bed on fire.

***

The seventh time, they’re in a proper hotel room, the suite lush with polished wood furnishings and generic paintings of European landscapes. The western-style bed is massive, as white as Hamura’s suit, and as Higashi climbs into it he needs to take a moment and marvel at how soft and lush it feels under his bare skin. The topsheet has a looser weave, cool to the touch and designed for the summer heat, and he strokes his hand over it in wonder.

“Never been anywhere this fancy, hm?” Hamura asks as he undresses.

“No, never.”

“Not even with your daddy’s contract money?”

Higashi flinches, grips the exquisite sheet under his hands.

“I don’t understand what you mean, we never had money,” he manages.

Hamura sits on the bed behind him, hand trailing a light finger along Higashi’s arm as his hot breath warmed Higashi’s ear.

“That’s right, he was a bit like you - spent all that cash to help his girl get her papers, paid off everyone so they could run off to Yokohama. That wouldn’t leave much for a fancy vacation.”

He chuckles as Higashi sits frozen, licks the lobe of Higashi’s ear.

“Why’d you think he taught you how to use a knife? Wasn’t about gettin’ you into the family business of doin’ hits.”

_When he got his first phone, his father taught him to never save anyone in the family as contacts under their real names. Mom was “Daisuke” and dad was “Hiroko” and when Haeyeon moved in she was “Jiro” - never save women under names that revealed their gender. Text nothing sensitive like where you’re going or who you need to talk to, always call. Codewords for school pickups, friends’ houses, the library, the park. Higashi Shosuke was not a cruel father but he was strict, and the fear in his eyes when they had asked him why was answer enough._

He barely feels Hamura’s hand stroking up and down his chest, the way his teeth nip at his earlobe. There is a roar in his ears, panic roiling in his stomach - if Hamura knows this much, what else can he find out?

_His mother is still “Daisuke” on his phone even though he has stopped contacting her after joining the family. Haeyeon is now “Dr. Masamichi”, and after she moved to Kamurocho to work they made a system of new codes for the club, the apartment, her boyfriends. Yagami’s office was “Kanagawa Florists” after the orchids he keeps by the window. The number is deleted now. Kaito is “Mayu-chan”, a name he picked for himself after learning Higashi’s system. He has not deleted the number._

“Don’t worry so much,” Hamura whispers, now stroking Higashi’s dick with a gentle grip. “Don’t give me a reason to find out more and everything will be fine.”

Higashi feels the flush rise in his chest again, pants as he leans back against Hamura and lets the captain bring him to hardness, writhes as Hamura presses a thumb down and rubs on his cockhead to smear the beading precum. He’s brought off slow and quiet as Hamura’s growing erection presses against his back. Higashi comes with a soft gasp, and doesn’t flinch when Hamura pushes him down face-first in order to use his dripping hand to work at Higashi’s hole, lubed by nothing but spit and his own cum.

The sensation of Hamura’s cock raking his insides makes him come again, and he muffles his sobs in those beautiful sheets as he’s ridden rough through his shaking orgasm.

***

For the eighth time, Hamura is surprised to see Higashi’s ears pierced. He strokes a finger over the healing lobes, still slightly red from inflammation.

Haeyeon had picked the piercing studio and chose the studs, telling him it was stylish to have an uneven number. She didn’t ask why he wanted them now, only teased him when he balked at the long needle the piercer used instead of a piercing gun. 

“Off limits now, hmm?” Hamura says as he gently taps the larger stud, the clink heavy and satisfying.

When Higashi is face-down in the downy pillow, hips canted up and presenting his dripping hole to Hamura, Hamura runs his fingertips down Higashi’s spine with a feather-light touch that makes Higashi shiver as his face burns.

“You got a complexion any woman would kill for - they’d rip the skin right off ya if they could.” Another stroke, the hand pressing into the skin gently, tracing muscle and following the line of his hips to the rise of his ass. “Just perfect.”

This is the first time it’s slow, Hamura brushing his hair and taking his time with deep thrusts that made Higashi moan from the depths of his chest. Higashi’s leg is held up as Hamura finds the best angle that has his cock hit Higashi’s prostate at the deepest point of each heavy push, and it’s not long before Higashi starts to come apart.

“ _Nnh - captain - ahh - !”_

Hamura groans into his ear as he comes, thrusting lazily into Higashi to push as much cum into him as possible. It’s the slow and deliberate kisses along the back of his neck that Higashi is surprised by, and to his shame his dick responds to the tenderness despite being streaked with release.

“Maybe in another time and place this would’ve gone better,” the captain murmurs as he strokes the muscles over Higashi's stomach.

Hamura pulls out of him and gets out of bed without another word. 

Higashi waits for the bathroom door to shut before he covers his face with his hands, trying to stifle the hysterical laugh in his throat.

“Motherfucker,” he whispers to himself with his teeth bared.

***

The ninth time comes two months after, the gap in between while Higashi’s face heals from the beating Hamura gave him over Haeyeon leaving Emerald Hills at the family office.

She pays for Higashi’s hospital bill, dogs him about the outpatient routine, gets drunk in his tiny 1K apartment and tells him to move in with her. Instead he asks her about the female tattoo artist she made friends with at the piercing studio, and books an appointment when she visits again from Osaka. 

He finds out her formal title is _Kazahori the Fifth_ , and leaves the first appointment feeling both sore and somehow blessed. She sounds like his mother would if she were a Kansai woman, and being under her buzzing needle was the calmest he’d felt since Kaito was expelled.

He holds onto that feeling as Hamura arrives at the hotel room drunk.

“Heard you got some ink, Higashi,” Hamura says, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Better not be the ugly western shit some of the boys got, or I’ll be very disappointed.”

Higashi disrobes as Hamura drops himself into an elegant chair, turns his back to his captain and kneels in front of him with his head lowered.

“You’re just full of surprises,” Hamura says as he traces over the linework of peonies on Higashi’s shoulders, running his hand down the back now decorated with Kannon taming a vicious lesser dragon. “A proper tattoo for a real yakuza. It suits you.”

The clink of a belt buckle opening. Higashi keeps his head down, eyes on the floor.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You know what they’re supposed to represent, right?”

The rustle of fabric being opened, moved aside.

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s that then?”

Higashi’s voice holds steady as he feels Hamura’s cock start to slide slowly along his spine.

“The ideals you hold up and follow.”

The sound of saliva spat onto his back, the hardening dick gliding easily as it strokes through it.

“So what’s yours?”

Higashi swallows, breathes in carefully.

“To be above temptation.”

A derisive laugh, something hot dribbling down his spine as precum mixes with spit.

Suddenly Hamura seizes his hair, pulls his head back roughly and hisses in his ear: “I know what you’re trying to do. You might be the best earner now, but you’re still my woman and I’ll remind you what your place is.”

Hamura jerks and comes on Higashi’s back, defacing the tattoo and filling the empty lines with dripping cum. Higashi doesn’t know why this humiliation jams a knife deeper than the others and his hands fist uselessly in the carpet. His cursed dick twitches as the hot semen trails down his back to drip onto his ass.

He hears the rustle of a jacket and shirt being removed, then yelps when Hamura drags him up by the hair, pulling him backwards into his lap. He lands with Hamura’s erect cock tucked under his hardening one, gasps when he feels their delicate foreskins rub against each other. Hamura swipes a hand down Higashi’s back, gathers the cum and spit in his palm and grabs their two dicks with it, starts stroking with harsh tight movements.

“Wait, _don’t -_ ” Higashi cries as Hamura continues relentlessly, not caring as he punishes the both of them.

“I’ll show you what it really means to be a yakuza,” Hamura sneers into Higashi’s ear. “Old-fashioned shit like this tattoo doesn’t cut it no more.”

Hamura releases them and Higashi has a bare moment to catch his breath and wince from the sting of his chafed dick before he hears the familiar sound of a packet being torn, the slick sound of lube being worked onto a hand and a cock. Higashi tips forward, presents his ass, one small thing he can do to assuage the growing fury in Hamura’s voice.

“Hands behind your back,” Hamura barks.

Higashi obeys, feels Hamura’s unlubed hand seize both his wrists and yank him flush against him, Hamura’s cock lying hot against the cleft of his ass. Higashi doesn’t move, doesn’t try to grind against it like he would have before, his body finally realising he’s dancing on the edge of a punishment he may not come back from.

“Do you know your Tojo history, _Toru-chan_?” Hamura growls as he thrusts his hips to rub his cock along Higashi’s ass. “Heard of the Nikkyo Consortium?”

Slick fingers are pushing against Higashi’s hole, insistent and relentless, and he spreads his legs wider to let them in. Two slip into him as he answers.

“N-no, sir - _ah!_ ”

“They’re the group your daddy was part of, did you know that?” A third finger jams in, and Higashi yelps. “Dark ops types, _assassins and hitmen_ , y’see? Had their heyday in the seventies and eighties, and your old man made the mistake of quitting them at their peak.”

The fingers are gone, replaced by Hamura’s cock that pushes into Higashi impatiently, stuffing him to the hilt and splitting him in half as his own cock leaks precum onto the floor. Hamura starts hammering into him, his vice grip on Higashi’s wrists the only thing keeping Higashi steady as he cries out.

“That’s - _nnh -_ that’s where the real money is, _hits_ ,” Hamura pants as he thrusts in and out. “The noble yakuza’s a fairytale - _hah -_ cash is what you need to survive - _mmh_ \- and show these other fuckers who’s on top.”

Hamura is hitting that spot in him that makes Higashi’s toes curl at each slap of skin, the place that makes his head float and body vibrate with pleasure even as his disgust snaps and howls inside him. He starts to move his hips to meet Hamura’s strokes, gets pulled up properly into Hamura’s lap so that he’s bouncing on Hamura’s cock on his own, fully lost and moaning as he chases after release.

Hamura’s phone rings, and the captain grabs Higashi’s wrists and yanks when Higashi tries to stop. Hamura thrusts his hips up once to get the message across, and Higashi resumes grinding down and sliding himself up and down that hard heat as Hamura answers the phone.

“Don’t call me when I tell you I’m busy,” Hamura snarls.

“Then don’t pick up when you’re with a prostitute,” the voice on the other end says coldly.

Higashi can’t place the voice, but the shame of being heard and taken for a real whore both makes him dizzy and his dick pulse in agony from being so hard. He lifts himself and drops heavily, grinding his hips in a circle as he impales himself on Hamura, moans loud and wantonly.

“Well? Did you do it?” Hamura grunts as Higashi clenches around him.

“It’s done. Someone will find him in the morning and get an ambulance. We’re clean.”

“We’d better,” Hamura says as he hangs up and tosses his phone with a clatter onto the coffee table. Higashi raises himself again, tight around Hamura’s cock to drag out the sensation, to make Hamura and himself finish sooner, only for Hamura to reach around and seize Higashi tight enough to make him howl.

“ _Captain -_ ”

“You’re being a brat, and you won’t get to come until I’m satisfied,” Hamura whispers into his ear. “Brace your hands on the chair and keep them there.”

Higashi obeys, his hands knuckling white on the armrests as his back arches, head fallen back onto Hamura’s shoulder and panting as he’s thrusted into with a frenzied pace that makes his feet lift off the ground. Hamura’s grip around his cock is agony as Higashi feels his balls clench and fail to release anything, his prostate slammed into with ruthless speed and making him stupid, mindlessly skating along the border of pain and pleasure.

Hamura suddenly pulls out completely, and Higashi’s hole clenches around nothing, twitching from the absence of heat and girth, and he makes a frustrated noise like a cornered animal.

“No, don’t - “ 

“Don’t what?”

“ _Don’t stop,_ ” Higashi grits through his teeth. “ _Please -”_

“Please ...?”

“ _Please keep fucking me, please let me come._ ”

“Then get on the bed.”

Higashi clumsily gets off him, stumbles towards the bed like he’s drunk and collapses into the sheets.

“On your back”

Higashi turns, hooks his own knees with his hands so his legs are pulled up and his open throbbing hole displayed to Hamura. His hard-on, aching and burning from the abuse earlier, lies against his stomach untouched.

“The best cunt in the city,” Hamura murmurs, running his finger around the rim. 

“ _Please, please …_ ” Higashi begs, incoherent and pathetic.

Hamura’s laugh is cold, but he drags the head of his dick along Higashi’s rim so he doesn’t care, the promise of being filled with a thick cock again and being able to come overriding any fear and any voice in his head. Hamura keeps teasing him, slipping the head into him and pulling it back again, catching the rim each time and making Higashi groan in frustration as Hamura’s breaths grow heavy.

Finally Hamura pushes in completely, burning hot, and Higashi immediately tightens around him, unwilling to let him slip out again. Hamura strokes his thighs, almost gentle, moving to take his knees so Higashi’s hands can instead grip the sheets near his head.

A slow drag back and then Hamura drives into him hard, thrusting like a wild animal, the clap of their hips loud and ringing in Higashi’s ears as he sobs in relief, moaning even as Hamura’s erratic strokes miss his prostate or hits it too hard. He writhes as his dick catches against his skin, feels his balls tighten as he gets close.

“ _Captain, I -”_

A hand seizes him again, squeezes the base of his cock tight, and Higashi yells aloud as he’s denied release, his voice vibrating as Hamura fucks him through his cry. Hamura roars as he finally comes, shoving forward so deep that Higashi imagines he feels him in his stomach, and doesn’t pull out as he pants over Higashi’s shuddering body.

“Come for me,” Hamura says as he finally lets go of Higashi.

Higashi looks down as he reaches for himself, sees Hamura still buried inside him and feels his hole twitch the same time as his cock. He shuts his eyes and strokes himself, dick fully slick from his own precum and sweat, focusing on the feeling of his hand sliding along his skin, of Hamura still inside him and letting his mind stray enough to wonder if Kaito would feel any bigger. He grips tight and comes so hard his eyes white out as they open from the force of his orgasm, his entire body shaking, mouth open and silently gaping as the pleasure drowns him alive.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” Hamura murmurs as he finally pulls out.

Higashi comes down slowly, body humming from being made insensible. He hears Hamura on the phone again, hollow and distant like he’s on the other side of a tunnel. Higashi sinks back to reality and then sinks through the bed, the thick carpeting, down however many floors of this overpriced hotel and into the dirt below. Even worms can smell his debasement and turn away in contempt.

Not for the first time he thinks about opening that giant bay window wide, climbing over the balcony railing, and throwing his treacherous body to the ground so his spirit can flee into the wind. He’d float across Tokyo to his uncle’s stall and see if he’s managed to get that tuna contract, then visit Haeyeon in her new apartment and watch her decorate. Maybe he’ll go by Yagami’s office and knock something off his shelf. Or maybe he’ll drift all the way back to Yokohama and see if his mother is still working at Tadanori-ojisan’s restaurant. 

_Promise me you’ll look after oyaji while I’m not there._

Higashi pushes himself up, and manages to walk a straight line into the bathroom.

***

There is no tenth time because Yagami has come down on them like lightning and Kaito thunders behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised this might be ambiguous: Yuna/Haeyeon is the same person - hostesses have stage names for their jobs, and "Yuna" is Haeyeon's stage name. She first is mentioned in "Winters" but this clarification is uhhhh done in Korean. Whoops.
> 
> Thank you for reading baby's first abject porno. Epilogue is next ~>


	2. Epilogue

Genda has Hamura put up in a bland hotel out in Asakusa, a place manned by a sleepy receptionist and mostly hosting salarymen on business trips. Hamura wouldn’t divulge his typical hideouts and Yagami needed to keep an eye on him before the trial, so Asakusa it was. They all rotate monitoring the area, a haphazard system of Yagami’s drone, Sugiura on a nearby roof, and a small movement alarm devised by one of Yagami’s many weird neighbourhood friends.

Higashi waits by the door while Yagami and Hamura review the latter’s statements, sets down the bag of groceries to page through his phone. It’s not his turn to keep watch, not until tomorrow, and yet here he is.

Yagami exits the suite and gives him a look he resolutely ignores. It might’ve been sympathetic, it might’ve been concern, but it was mostly knowing and that made Higashi scowl and divert his eyes back to his screen.

“Higashi,” Yagami starts.

“Don’t.”

Yagami sighs and starts to walk away, grabbing Higashi’s shoulder before he leaves.

“He’ll be ten years at minimum. You don’t have to go in.”

Yagami grips him like he wants to pull him away from the door, and Higashi feels a small rush of gratitude. He reaches up and lays his hand over Yagami’s, squeezes once, then gently pulls Yagami’s hand away.

“I know.”

He leaves Yagami in the hallway as he enters the hotel room, closing the door behind him.

Hamura sits slumped on the armchair, the glasses of water from his meeting with Yagami still on the table. He’s in his tracksuit, the one that nearly got him killed, and he looks exhausted and unhappy. He deserves all of it.

“Well, it’s been a while hasn’t it, Higashi,” he says in his gravelly voice, still sending the tiniest of shivers down Higashi’s spine. “Why are you here?”

“Brought you supplies,” Higashi says as he kneels in front of the minifridge by Hamura’s chair and starts stocking it from his bag.

“I’m not locked up, I can get my own shit.”

“The closest market doesn’t have all your preferred brands,” he says simply, placing a carton of cigarettes on top of the fridge.

“Thoughtful as always,” Hamura says, and Higashi does not flinch when a hand comes down to stroke his chin.

“Saw you with the boys after Ta-bo got rattled by Kuroiwa … really came into your own, didn’t you?” A thumb strokes his cheek, presses the birthmark under his left eye.

“Maybe.”

Hamura huffs a laugh and takes his hand away to let Higashi stand. Higashi gets up and clears away the drink glasses, then stops to take off his sunglasses and makes to wipe them with the lining of his jacket. He pauses, considering the choices he has in front of him. He could easily leave, responsibility fulfilled, walk out into sunlight and go to the covered street market that sold hot yakitori and fresh daifuku and pick some up for Sugiura who was on watch.

He turns to look at Hamura, slightly blurry when they’re this close. He sees the smile, the show of teeth, thinks of them on his skin and scraping him bloody.

“Always liked you without those on. Still a beauty even like this.”

Something dark passes over him. Higashi places his glasses on the table, starts taking off his clothes and laying them over the chair where Yagami had left a folder of documents. He even takes off the chain, lets Hamura see him drop it to the floor as he walks back to his old captain and climbs into his lap.

“Well, what’s this? Miss your captain that much?” Hamura rumbles as his hands slide up and down Higashi’s waist and settle on his ass. His grin belies the flicker of uncertainty in his silver eyes, and Higashi seizes his moment.

He loops his arms around Hamura’s neck, leans in close to breathe into his ear.

“You get one more night with the best whore in Kamurocho,” Higashi whispers with all the venom in his heart. “Make the most of it.”

He tilts Hamura’s head up and kisses him, licks against the captain’s teeth until they open with a moan and their tongues slide and curl against each other. Hamura, not a fool but still a wolf ruled by vices, seizes Higashi’s ass and pulls him flush to his erection, both of them grinding against each other and wetting the fabric of the tracksuit with their shared precum.

Higashi breaks the kiss first to catch his breath, lets Hamura place sucking kisses down his throat and chest to latch onto a nipple, scraping his sharp teeth against the sensitive skin before stroking it with his tongue and making Higashi throw his head back and give a shaking gasp as he tangles his fingers in Hamura’s hair and presses him closer. Hamura pulls his dick out from his track pants and spits in his hand, gripping both of them as he slides the slick mess along their cocks. His other hand grabs the back of Higashi’s head and pulls him back in, tonguing into his open mouth and thrusting his tongue along Higashi’s in a lewd display that left them both with saliva running down their chins.

Higashi feels Hamura’s balls tighten against his own, grabs Hamura’s hand and squeezes, stopping them both from coming too soon. He pulls Hamura’s hands off him, slides down to the floor while never breaking eye contact and takes Hamura deep into his mouth. He hollows his cheeks, sucks as he pulls up and runs his tongue along the veins as he slides back down, one hand pumping the base that doesn’t make it all the way into his throat. He makes sure Hamura watches him as his other hand, wet with Hamura’s spit and their mixed precum, starts to stroke against his hole - makes him see that he had worked himself open earlier and was still slick - and slips in three fingers easily as he moans around Hamura’s cock.

“You … son of a bitch …” Hamura curses, grabbing Higashi’s head and starting to thrust into his mouth, eyes darting between Higashi’s fingers playing with his ass and Higashi’s eyes that never once flinched or looked away.

Higashi pushes away from Hamura with force before he can come and sits back on his heels, licking the bitter salt off his lips and enjoying Hamura staring at his mouth hungrily. He climbs back on top of Hamura, lines up his dick to his hole, and moans loudly as he takes him down to the hilt in a single slow movement. Fully seated, Higashi clenches as he gets used to the size and heat inside him, each squeeze around Hamura’s cock leaving the captain gasping.

“ _Fuck …_ missed you swallowing me up like this,” Hamura groans as he grabs at Higashi’s ass and pushes the cheeks together before spreading them again.

Higashi raises his hips then drops back down as Hamura thrusts up to meet him. Higashi sits up higher, pushes Hamura’s shoulders down, stares at him through his mussed hair as he starts to ride him hard. Hamura hisses and bares his teeth but doesn’t break his gaze, and for the first time Higashi can challenge those silver eyes as his mouth opens to gasp at each slam of the captain’s hard cock against his prostate.

“ _Ah - ahn - captain - ah - feels good -_ “

“You like that? Think you’ll miss it?” Hamura growls as he keeps pumping his hips. The thumbs of his hands on Higashi’s thighs start to rub his skin, and Higashi feels the corner of his mouth quirk.

Sweating, flushed, debased, Higashi slowly runs his tongue along his lip in response. He’d feel absurd if he didn’t know it would make Hamura snarl and thrust more erratically until he comes inside him.

The victory is satisfying enough that he doesn’t mind when Hamura pulls out and wipes some of the cum from his dick to smear it into Higashi’s mouth. He licks his mouth clean. Let him be petty.

Higashi gets up from the armchair, walks over to his jacket and fishes out foil packets from the pocket, then climbs into the bed while ignoring how the cum seeping out of him smears over the topsheet. It’s not as nice as the old hotel’s, so he doesn’t feel guilty. He stretches out on his stomach, enjoying the cool fabric on his skin before he raises his stretched hole the way Hamura had always liked it. This time though he rips a lube packet open and pours it onto his hand before he starts to stroke himself and lets the wet noise fill the room.

“Give me more.”

If he were a more confident whore he’d smirk, but he’s breathless and shuddering from the feeling of his hand twisting around his sensitive head and the lingering sensation of Hamura deep inside him. He feels the bed dip and creak as Hamura gets on behind him, sighs as he feels the captain’s hand stroke down his back and sweep appreciatively across his ass. Higashi reaches behind when he feels Hamura lining up his hardening cock, strokes it with his lubed hand slowly as he lets his fingertips trace the veins, cups his hand around the head and rubs it with his palm until he feels Hamura fully hard and heavy against his hand.

“You’re killing me,” Hamura gasps.

“Can’t fuck me if you’re dead,” Higashi says as he pushes the tip of Hamura’s cock in. “ _Ah, captain -”_

Hamura stays still, only gripping the base of his cock to keep it still as Higashi works his hips backwards to impale himself. Higashi drops his head into the pillow and moans, the slower pace making the sensation of being full inescapable. Hamura burns him from the inside, hard and unrelenting.

He’s fucked slow and deep, each thrust pushing him lower into the bed until Higashi’s cock is rubbing into the sheets each time Hamura bottoms out, the friction and pressure leaving him breathless and writhing. He sighs as he feels Hamura kiss his neck and stroke down his chest, gasps when a nipple is squeezed between two fingers, lets his chin be turned so they kiss awkwardly over his shoulder and Hamura’s tongue slips into his mouth the same time as his cock does below.

Hamura’s hand moves between Higashi’s legs and grips him, stroking him to the time of his thrusts, and only then does Higashi cry out as the sensation overwhelms him. Hamura’s hand is hot and dry, and touching Higashi’s slicked cock finds that perfect balance between friction and slip that makes Higashi’s hips buck forward to thrust into it and back again to take more dick. Higashi comes with a noise like a bird, flooding Hamura’s hand and clenching around Hamura’s cock, trembles from pleasure when he feels Hamura’s own release pulsing hot inside him.

They lie in a heap, Hamura having slipped out of him with a wet noise and panting against the back of his neck. Higashi recovers first, standing to stretch and letting the cum drip down his leg as he walks to the bathroom. Hamura’s eyes never leave him.

“Woulda been kinder to just stab me with that knife of yours,” Hamura rasps.

“Didn’t you tell me to not do anything someone will do to themselves?”

He shuts the door against Hamura’s bitter laugh.

Higashi passes a glance at the mirror as he goes to the shower, sees the red marks on his throat and chest that Hamura left. They’ll all heal in a few days. He turns, looks at his abused hole, swollen and still slightly trembling from the last echoes of pleasure fading on his nerves. That’ll fix itself fine too.

He turns on the water in the shower, lets it run down his back as he crouches beneath the spray and his forehead nearly touching the ceramic. He covers his mouth as he tries to stifle the giddy dizziness of vicious satisfaction and the feeling of impending freedom. He reaches up to turn the nozzle to a searing temperature so it can burn the smell of the captain off him for good.

***

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Higashi says as he climbs into the back of the van, carefully setting the last market bento on the seat beside him. The delighted look on Sugiura’s face made the embarrassment of getting scolded by two obasans at once worth it.

“Ta-bo told me,” was all Kaito said as he blew smoke out the open window.

Higashi buckles himself in and says nothing as Kaito pulls away from the curb.

“So you saw him,” Kaito says.

“Yeah.”

Kaito makes a noise that’s halfway between disapproval and concern, and Higashi finds himself smiling as he sees him clearly try to work out what to say. He sits back and waits, watching cars pass on the other lane.

“Hope ya fucked him up a little,” Kaito says eventually. 

“In a way.”

Kaito grunts, satisfied, and doesn’t say anything else as he focuses on the road.

Higashi watches the roof of Senso-ji Temple fade in the distance, and says a quiet prayer of thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to it to have a full-blown depressing ending, so here's a nice Kaito for you.
> 
> Cancel me @morning_mikan on twitter


End file.
